


Whatever man, I'm not saying bulwark

by kellifer_fic



Series: bulwark [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst and Humor, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Derek, POV Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:43:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellifer_fic/pseuds/kellifer_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have gotten their act together, all that's left is a happy ending, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Gilmore Girls/Teen Wolf fusion. There is no need to be at all familiar with the source material. I actually think it helps to be as unfamiliar as possible.

"You said he sounded nice, right?"

Stiles swallows hard, tries to let the hand Derek has on the small of his back soothe him like it usually does but he's a bundle of nerves ready to unravel which is beyond calming touches. Chester, on his other side, is kind of feeding off his anxiety which should make Stiles stomp down on it, but these are pretty unusual circumstances.

"We're currently standing in the best case scenario right now. He wanted to meet you," Derek adds. His hand travels up to the short hairs at Stiles' nape, thumb rubbing through them. Stiles slaps him away because that touch is not a _calm_ touch and Derek knows it. 

"Maybe I need to run around the block a few times," Stiles says, shaking his hands out. He's the embodiment of nervous energy and doesn't want to freak anyone out by being a twitching mess. 

Especially his dad.

That's who he's meeting, for the first time ever. All the zen attitude Derek is trying to push onto him is just being dashed to pieces on the craggy shores of Stiles' insecurity. 

"You've got to go in at some point. Might as well be now before the guy starts thinking you've stood him up," Derek says.

"Don't rush me. I'm working up to it."

"Look, Isaac and I will be in the cafe down... Christ, there's a lot of cafes on this street," Derek muses.

"I know, right? Totally weird. Maybe we should-"

"Stiles," Derek says, catching a hold of both Stiles' hands which he'd been wringing anxiously. Derek presses a kiss to Stiles' mooshed-together fingers and Chester and Isaac try not to look too grossed out which is nice of them, shows real growth. "Go meet your dad."

"Alright," Stiles breathes, then grips Chester by the arm and tugs him forward.

The little eatery they're meeting at reminds Stiles of Derek's diner. There's even a surly-looking man with a dishtowel over one shoulder behind the counter that looks to be just waiting for someone to _dare_ ask for the free coffee refill advertised. Stiles looks around but it's Chester that spots the man in the uniform, a newspaper in front of him he is obviously not reading and a fork gripped in one hand while he dithers over an untouched plate of eggs.

Chester puts an elbow to Stiles' back and he scowls at his kid, making an _alright already_ face before they approach. Chester trails him, one hand knotted in the sleeve of Stiles' shirt which makes Stiles kind of ache for him, wonder if maybe he should have left Chester out of the first meeting in case it ends badly. 

They reach Sheriff Stilinski's table and then kind of hover awkwardly, Stiles unsure how to announce them. He clears his throat a little but before he can say anything, Sheriff Stilinski looks up at them, a mild smile on his face and says, "Can I help you guys?"

"Oh, um, I'm-" Stiles starts to splutter, but then a mixture of shock and recognition pass over the Sheriff's face and his hand jerks, knocking his coffee cup clear across his table and onto the floor. Stiles fights the urge to smile, thinking that maybe he's found the reason behind his ability to cause surprise destruction.

Looks like it might be hereditary.

"Oh, hey!" the Sheriff says hurriedly, standing and trying to edge around the table, waving at a waitress he must know who rolls her eyes but has an indulgent smile on her face which looks a lot like Derek whenever Stiles knocks stuff over in his diner. "I wasn't expecting... I mean you're different than..." The Sheriff kind of flails helplessly.

Stiles tries to ignore the reflexive stab of hurt he feels, wondering how he managed to disappoint the man already. His confidence flags and Stiles can feel Chester's grip tighten on his sleeve but then the Sheriff blurts, "I just... you said you had a son but I was expecting a little fella."

Stiles blinks for a second, replays the all-too-brief phone conversation he'd had with Sheriff Stilinski in his head and realizes belatedly that he hadn't in fact explained that Chester was nearly grown. It must have been a hell of a surprise for the Sheriff and Stiles snorts. The first words out of his mouth, when face to face with the father he's always yearned for is, "Yeah, me and my mom. Two teen-pregnancy peas in a pod it turns out."

He's a disaster.

The Sheriff's eyes widen for a moment and Stiles thinks maybe in one fell swoop he's ruined _everything_ , but then the man is doubled over laughing. There's a slightly hysterical edge to it, but Stiles can understand. He's felt a little ragged the last few days leading up to this meeting himself.

The waitress with a name tag that says _Donna_ , bustles over to the table and makes quick work of the clean up before retreating. The Sheriff indicates that they should sit and Stiles does, gratefully, Chester sprawling in the seat to his left. "So, Stiles and Chester, right?" the Sheriff says. "Uh, did you want to call me Da-"

"Oh, um, no? It's a little soon... if that's okay," Stiles says. He doesn't miss the flash of disappointment in the man's eyes but is appreciative of the understanding that quickly replaces it. "Although, calling you by your first name might be just as weird."

"Well, everyone calls me Sheriff so you guys can to, just till you're more comfortable with... the other thing," the Sheriff offers with a game smile and Stiles nods. If this all works out, he definitely wants to transition to the other thing and it might be easier he's moving from Sheriff to _that_ instead of feeling like the guy's buddy by calling him by his first name.

"Can I call you Gramps?" Chester asks, suddenly bold and the Sheriff chokes a little on the sip of coffee he's just taken from a new cup dropped off by Donna. 

"Uh, sure?"

"Chester!" Stiles hisses.

"No, it's totally fine," the Sheriff says quickly. "The boys down at the station will _love_ that."

"Oh, you've told-?"

"No! I mean, not yet. Thought we should meet first and see how everything goes," the Sheriff says. "I mean, have you?"

"Just, um." Stiles thinks of Derek and Isaac. "Just family."

"Right, good, that's good."

"Is it me or is this the weirdest conversation ever?" Stiles asks and that get a genuine smile out of the Sheriff finally, who sits back a little and nods, more relaxed. "Okay, I think a zillion questions are in order, right?"

"Shoot," the Sheriff says agreeably. 

"So do you have family? Like, a family?"

"I never married, didn't have kids, if that's what you're asking," the Sheriff says, then kind of pulls a face at himself. "I mean, I didn't have _other_ kids."

"Right, so, did you know about us?"

The Sheriff sits forward again, pushes his coffee cup aside and rests his elbows on the table. "How much did your mom tell you?"

"Not much about where you were. Just, whenever she talked about you, it was good."

The Sheriff's smile is a little sad then and he scratches a thumb over his brow. "I knew about you for the first three months when your mom was pregnant. I know it sounds really weird since I was a nineteen year old kid, but I was completely excited by the prospect. I think your mom was more scared and I really... I freaked her out by making all these plans for our future."

"You wanted that?" Stiles asks, surprised. Doesn't ask what he really wants to. _You wanted me?_

"Oh yeah. I probably needed my head read because we were both way too young, but before we'd found out Angie was pregnant, I was already thinking about marrying her, knew she was the one."

"Wow, so, what happened?"

"I _really_ spooked her. She just... disappeared one day. I went to her parent's house and they wouldn't help me find her." Chester makes a small, distressed noise at that and Stiles touches his hand, knows Chester is thinking of the great-grandparents that he now loves. "About three months after _that_ I got a letter. She told me that she'd lost you."

Stiles' grip on Chester's hand gets tighter and Chester returns it. The Sheriff watches the way they touch, easy and grounding and there's something wistful on his face. "I'm sorry," Stiles murmurs.

"I was never angry. She was young and terrified and I think she thought she would be ruining both our lives."

They all sit in silence for a while, mulling things over. Donna returns to refill the Sheriff's cup and Stiles turns his own over and accepts coffee so he has something to do with his hands. The caffeine would be a really terrible idea at the moment so he doesn't actually drink any, but he turns it around and around in his fingers, the pads warm where they meet ceramic.

"When you would have been about eighteen I think, I got another letter from her out of the blue. She'd sent it to my parent's house which I'd inherited when they passed on. I had all the mail from the place forwarded to my apartment so I got it. She said she was sorry, that she'd had you after all. She asked for forgiveness and for me to be patient, to let you come to me because she was certain you would."

"I did... nearly," Stiles says, a lump in his throat thinking about what prompted his mom to send the letter, knowing she was going when Stiles had Chester and no other options, no other support. "I made it all the way to Beacon Hills."

"You've been there all this time?" the Sheriff asks, sounding a little choked. 

"Yeah, I got taken in by this really great guy who have me a job and a roof over my head. He owns the Inn I manage now."

*

"You didn't call for a rescue so I'm assuming it went okay," Derek says into the top of Stiles' head. Stiles has been delighted to find out that Derek, when unleashed, is a remorseless hugger. Stiles has a few inches on Derek but he still likes to kind of fold himself in, tuck his head under Derek's chin.

"He was nice. We agreed to take it slow. He's going to come for dinner in a few weeks to our place. Give us both time to think about stuff before we reconvene."

"That's good," Derek says, sweeping Stiles' back with his hands. Stiles leans away and looks into Derek's eyes because he's gone a little stiff.

"You guys too," he says.

"Oh, I wasn't sure-"

"He wants to meet you guys. I told him about you," Stiles says and Derek ducks his face, but Stiles still catches the edge of the pleased smile he's trying to hide. Isaac and Chester have wandered a little away from them and Stiles pulls on his lower lip, brow crinkling. "I'm just... I'm worried."

"About?"

"What if Chester gets attached and then... it doesn't work out? I mean, that was why I avoided relationships for so long. I just couldn't risk him getting hurt like that, poor kid."

"I'm not saying he won't be hurt if that happens, but he's pretty mature. He'll probably handle it better than you will."

"Yeah, probably," Stiles agrees. As he watches, Chester and Isaac get into an argument about who's taller and it seems to require a resolution that involves a thumb war. "Oh yeah, way more mature than me."

"You demanded we rock, paper, scissors only last week to see who would pick what we were having for dinner."

"You always want steak. I need tofu in my life."

"I'm just saying that you guys are _very_ similar and he's fifteen. You're not."

"He's sixteen next weekend," Stiles says and it's one more thing to be depressed about. He wanted Chester to stay forever in the single digits age wise because then he wouldn't have to face Chester leaving and boyfriends and anything else that could give him a heart attack.

"Do you know what he wants?" Derek asks, accepting the change in subject like a champ.

"Books probably. Go to a bookstore and weigh books until you find the heaviest one. He'll be thrilled."

"I don't think it works like that."

"P'shaw!" Stiles says.

"What did you get him?"

"A fantastic party Saturday night."

"His birthday's on Friday though," Derek says, frowning. Stiles has always been a stickler for having parties on the actual day, no matter if it was mid-week or not so Stiles can understand his confusion.

"The grand-evils were a little inflexible about it being _their_ Friday night," Stiles says glumly. "They're throwing him their own party, Chilton kids only."

"Does he want that?" Derek asks.

"He wants to please them," Stiles says, pulling a face. "So, killer Saturday night party with the whole town it is."

"The whole town?" Derek asks, looks a little green at the prospect. He hasn't realized yet that throwing in his lot with the Stilinski's means that he's also thrown in with their social obligations, like that they can't risk offending anyone when it comes to a Chester birthday party and it ends up being an event that spills over to adjoining houses. Stiles is thinking he's probably going to have to hire out Erica's dance studio or maybe the town common for Chester's eighteenth.

"Yep, and there is no way you're bailing, buster," Stiles says. 

"I don't really like cro-"

"You like Chester, therefore attendance is mandatory."

Derek still looks a little horrified, but he also very grudgingly nods and Stiles hugs his neck.

*

"Are we picking up Isaac on the way?" Stiles asks, tugging his seat belt on and waiting for Chester to do the same before he starts the jeep. He'd forgotten to ask earlier considering Chester had been having a mini meltdown about which tie to wear. Stiles, thankfully, was not invited to this particular party so he'd tugged on the most obnoxious t-shirt he could find, the _I used to be a people person, but people ruined that for me_ one that makes Chester pull faces.

 _Just Chester and his friends, don't you think it would be better_ Felicia, his grandmother had said and Stiles had agreed because he couldn't really do anything else. They accepted his presence at the dinners even though they barely acknowledged him, it seems they've drawn a line at a party they're throwing mostly to show off to their society friends. Stiles is pretty sure the party will be full of other _acceptable_ parents but he doesn't want to argue, isn't selfish enough to want to ruin Chester's night.

"Uh, no," Chester says, fidgeting. 

"You asked Felicia if he could come, though. I heard you on the phone," Stiles says, frowning. He's pretty sure Isaac's become devoted over the last few months and that he would drop anything to hang out with Chester, especially on his birthday. 

"She didn't think it was a good idea," he says into his chest and Stiles watches his kid frown down at his hands. 

"Because he wouldn't know anyone I suppose," Stiles says, offering his grandmother an out she doesn't deserve. Chester's very grimly hanging onto the notion that his great-grandparents are good people but it seems Felicia is determined to prove him wrong. 

"I guess," Chester says, and now he sounds downright glum. 

"How about we bring him to dinner next week?" Stiles propose, feeling slightly evil for suggesting it, but also wanting to make Chester perk up a little bit. He'd already been hesitant about the party considering Stiles didn't rate an invitation, but Stiles doesn't want him dwelling on it. He's allowed to enjoy himself, despite the ulterior motives Felicia and Davis might have. "Your great-grandparents can get to know him and they'll warm up."

Stiles thinks an ice cube has a better chance of warming up in Antarctica but he doesn't say that.

"Okay," Chester agrees, rallying admirably. By the time they're pulling up to Stiles' grandparents place, he's smiling and chatting and Stiles thinks of it as a job well done.

They pull up to Castle Greyskull, Stiles _definitely_ has to use that one on Derek later, with Felicia waiting at the top of the stairs for them. Stiles figures it's as much to greet Chester as to hurry Stiles back out of there before the expensive cars start showing up. She won't want the jeep spoiling the view in her turnaround.

Chester bounces out of the car, races around to the driver's side and Stiles pushes the door open so he can hook an arm around Chester's neck and drop a kiss on his forehead. Chester's been an affectionate kid his whole life and Stiles is glad that didn't disappear with the arrival of his teenage years. Chester's then racing up the steps, accepts a kiss from Felicia and then is pushing inside.

Felicia comes down to Stiles and he yanks his door closed again. "I'm going, I'm going," he huffs. He'd been hurt by their outright rejection of him initially, but now it's kind of become background noise to his life, something there and unchangeable. He doesn't even really begrudge Chester his attachment to them, just resents that they didn't feel compelled to become involved in his life sooner.

"Stiles, hold on a second," Felicia says. She's holding onto the polite expression she always wears when she has to deal with him. He wonders if maybe he looks too much like his mom for her to ever really be comfortable with him. "Davis and I were going to propose something to Chester tonight and I thought I should tell you."

Stiles swallows, mouth suddenly dry. He doesn't like where this is going. "What would that be?" he asks slowly.

"Well, we were going to ask Chester to take our name," Felicia says.

"What?" 

"The Worthington name opens a lot of doors, more than _Stilinski_ ever will." The way Felicia says Stiles' name, with a little twitch of distaste to her mouth, makes rage course through Stiles' body. He catches hold of it, wrestles it back because he doesn't want to scream at Felicia in her own driveway. 

"Chester isn't changing his name," Stiles says through his teeth, surprised at how level he sounds when all he wants to do is get out of his car and shove Felicia into her rose bushes.

"We just think it's ridiculous," Felicia huffs. "He should have been a Worthington already. I don't know what Angela was thinking."

"Probably that she wanted to be as far away from you as possible, and that included your name," Stiles grits out. He's shaking, hands balled into fists and Felicia just arches an eyebrow at him. "Besides, aren't you relieved _I'm_ not a Worthington?"

"That's beside the point," Felicia says, which means yes, which makes Stiles let go of his anger all at once, replaced by sick disappointment because maybe he's not as immune to Felicia's dismissal of him as he thought. She can still stab him in the gut and leave him feeling small.

"You even so much as _mention_ this to Chester and-" 

"And what?" Felicia huffs. "We pay for his school, he enjoys his time with us. You care about Chester too much to make good on whatever you were going to threaten so I'm just going to stop you before you embarrass yourself."

"Why are you like this?" Stiles asks. It's not the first time he's asked that particular question, but he's never before directed it at the woman who makes him so frustrated. 

"Because you are Angela, through and through," Felicia says. "At least with Chester we see a little hope."

Felicia turns then, makes her way back into the house. Stiles is left standing in her driveway, gaping. He turns around, only manages to reign in the urge to punch his jeep's door because she's had enough abuse lately. Stiles chews on his lip for a second, thinks that it's probably a bad idea to run into the house, grab Chester and then keep on running even though it would make him feel a million times better.

To hell with it. He's got a blissfully free Friday night and a hot boyfriend out there. He has better things to do.

*

"I want you to come over and have sex with me right now."

Stiles hears the satisfying sound of Derek choking on whatever he was drinking. "Stiles! What?" he manages.

"I don't have to speak in code because I don't have a teenager with me who would be mentally scarred right now. Oh yeah, I also _don't have a teenager with me_ ," Stiles reiterates, because that point can't be too emphasized.

"Slow down, what are you doing?"

"We've been dating a month and I haven't even seen you naked. We have two impressionable, easily grossed out teenagers between us so I get it, I do, but I have an empty house, a Derek fever and according to Erica, only a meat thermometer can fix it."

"Oh my god," Derek groans. "Stop talking to Erica. You're banned from talking to Erica."

"She's my spirit animal."

"Are you driving while you're talking on your cell phone? That's really dangerous."

"It's on hands-free and are you seriously giving me a safety lecture when I'm in the middle of a booty call?"

"Don't call it that."

"Deeeeeeeerek!" Stiles wails, would beat his head against his own steering wheel if he weren't, in fact, driving.

"Ask me over like a normal person."

"Derek, would you like to come over and help me move some tables for the party?"

"That's bet-"

" _In my pants_?" Stiles can't help but crow.

"Why do I like you again?"

"Erica wrote me a list."

"Banned," Derek repeats.

"Meet me at my house if you know what's good for you."

"Threats now? Stiles, I'm shocked."

"You're enjoying yourself. I can hear the self-satisfied smirk in your voice."

"Is everything okay?" Derek asks carefully as Stiles pulls up at his house, and damn Derek for being able to just get him, understand when he's hiding in plain sight. 

"No, but I'm not ready to talk about it. I am ready to take off all my clothes and let you ravage me."

"Why do I have to do all the work?"

"You've got thirty minutes and then I'm withdrawing my offer."

"I'll be there in eight."

"That's really specific."

"Time me."

*

Stiles is gasping, he's messy and they didn't even make it upstairs, or completely get undressed. Stiles is lying in his entryway in fact with his jeans around his knees and Derek's hand still possessively clamped to his hip. Derek has his own pants only open, not even shoved down and a dark bruise coming up under his jaw that Stiles put there. Stiles can't help himself, has to reach out and press it.

"Ow," Derek says with no inflection and Stiles giggles a little hysterically, oxygen deprivation never a good thing for his brain.

"If I kept a creepy diary of conquests, you would be going into it with a giant smiley face and the word awesome underlined three times."

"Sorry you just... kind of wound me up is all," Derek says, suddenly adorably bashful and Stiles rolls over so he can pin Derek to the floor when he starts to make motions about getting up. They're still in disarray and Stiles would kind of like to stay that way, at least until the afterglow stops glowing.

"Who knew my special brand of banter would be such an aphrodisiac."

"I've always kind of found it..." Derek makes a hand gesture that Stiles can't really parse the meaning of, but he's staying put so Stiles figures it's not bad.

"Annoying?"

"Not so much, no," Derek says, tucking their faces close so he can nip Stiles' nose gently.

They eventually get up and put themselves back together. Stiles orders pizza while Derek picks a movie. They're curled on the couch, Stiles' belly pleasantly distended like a python after eating when Derek threads fingers through the fine hairs at Stiles' nape and says, "So you wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

"Urgh," Stiles offers.

"You don't have to," Derek says and Stiles rolls his head enough that he can see Derek's profile, the strong cut of his jaw. 

"You know how you said you were going to ask Isaac about changing his name?" Stiles asks and at Derek's nod he says, "My grandparents thought Chester would _benefit_ more being a Worthington than a Stilinski."

"That's stupid," Derek huffs and Stiles smiles to himself, likes the way Derek just dismisses the idea.

"Chester Stilinski is a little hard to say, but ugh, Chester Worthington sounds so _pompous_."

"He's not going to change his name, Stiles. He wouldn't want that."

"I told Felicia not to even bring it up to him but she will. She won't be able to help herself."

"Stiles, you're worrying about nothing. Chester is a Stilinski through and through, same as you."

"I guess," Stiles huffs, scooches down into the couch cushions a little more and opens his mouth against Derek's shoulder.

"Don't bite me."

"Spoilsport," Stiles huffs. He curls forward again, digs around in the pizza boxes and finds them all disappointingly empty. "Oh my god, if you ate the last piece of pepperoni you're fired as my boyfriend."

"Where the hell do you put it all?" Derek huffs. "I'm going to have to run about two thousand miles tomorrow to work this off but I can imagine all you're going to do is roll out of bed and have a bacon sandwich."

"That does sound like me."

"Just you wait. You're going to hit forty and completely blimp out."

"Just more of me to cuddle," Stiles says and chuckles when Derek pulls him back by the shirt into the curve of his body.

*

The next afternoon before the party while he's setting up, Stiles finds Isaac outside lingering on the porch. Chester is inside, and Stiles is about to point him in Chester's direction when Isaac opens his mouth, closes it and then opens it again, clearly working on how to say something.

"You okay, Isaac?" he asks, because one thing Isaac and Derek have in common is that they need to be prodded into talking. They don't tend to volunteer information of their own volition. 

"Chester had a... party last night as well," Isaac says. Derek had turned up early with Isaac in tow to help, probably so he could make himself scarce when the party was in full swing, claiming he'd already been there for hours. He and Lydia were currently embroiled in a fairly entertaining fight about outside lantern placement. 

"You're worried because you weren't invited?" Stiles guesses.

"Maybe I'm just not..." Isaac looks down at himself, plucks disconsolately at his band shirt with the hole in the hem. 

"Isaac, he wanted you there. My grandparents said no, okay? Not for any reason other than they're giant douchebags." Stiles has made no promise to sugar coat his grandparents to anyone other than Chester and Isaac should probably be prepared for being looked down on, especially if they're taking him along to dinner next week.

"Oh," Isaac says, still looking a little glum and Stiles herds him towards the door, knows that one look at Chester's happy-to-see-him and frankly doe-eyed face will have Isaac smiling again.

Once he's inside, Stiles makes his way to the kitchen but Scott throws, thankfully plastic, utensils at him till he retreats, yelling that everything isn't perfect yet. Stiles retreats, is standing on the porch contemplating whether he should break up the exchange between Lydia and Derek before it devolves into a slap fight that will be embarrassing for both of them when a black town car pulls up into the drive. 

It's clearly a rental and Stiles is puzzled by it, making his way down the porch steps possibly to redirect a very lost tourist when a woman emerges from the driver's seat and Stiles freezes in place. 

Stiles is nearly bowled over as Chester hurtles past him. "Mom!" Chester cries happily and both Lydia and Derek's heads snap up and around at Chester's yell, as he reaches Bec and picks her up off her feet, swinging her around. She laughs, delighted and surprised. The last time she'd seen Chester in person was two years earlier and he's shot up in the intervening time.

Stiles glances at Derek, who is standing stock still. He'd been holding a paper lantern in hand that Erica's art class had made for the party and Stiles grimaces when he realizes Derek has crushed it in his clenched fists. Stiles isn't sure Derek remembers her. Bec hasn't been to Beacon Hills in years, Chester usually sent to meet her somewhere when she has a free week here and there. Before Stiles can unglue his feet from the ground, Chester is towing Bec towards him, babbling happily at her.

"Stiles, hi," she greets warmly. She's as pretty as always, long dark red hair shiny in the last light of the afternoon. Stiles had had a short-lived crush on Lydia when he first met her because she reminded him so strongly of Bec. It had died off quickly when he realized how unhealthy it was and also because his crush on Derek was annoyingly persistent and in place a lot earlier.

Bec hesitates a little, chewing on her lip and Stiles shakes himself, knows he's being rude by just gaping at her and instead steps forward so he can give her a hug, Chester kind of bouncing around them happily.

"Hey, hi, sorry. You just... surprised me is all," Stiles says, stepping back, crossing his arms and then dropping them because he doesn't want to look defensive. "We weren't expecting you... were we?" Stiles narrows his eyes at Chester but Bec shakes her head.

"No, it was totally last minute," Bec says. "I got a gap in my schedule and my baby only turns sixteen once, right?" She reaches out to tug Chester back into her and he rolls his eyes but goes, looping long arms around her waist and looking like he wants to pick her up again.

"Hi," Lydia says, elbowing Stiles in the shoulder and looking like she's just dragged Derek over by the collar forcibly. He looks mortified about it. "I'm Lydia and this is Derek." She kind of moves around so she can shunt Derek into Stiles' side. 

"Hi, nice to meet you," Bec says, her brow creasing the tiniest bit in confusion but smiling gamely all the same. She shakes hands with Lydia and then with Derek after a small hesitation. "Oh wait, Derek the diner owner, right?" Bec says, letting go of Derek's hand to snap her fingers. "Right, I remember. Excellent pancakes."

"I... yes," Derek says, throws Stiles a panicked glance like he's really fighting his flight response but it's a losing battle.

"Derek is Stiles' boyfriend," Lydia says pointedly and with that she turns and scurries away, bomb effectively dropped. 

The smile kind of freezes on Bec's face for a moment before she says, "Oh, wow. That's... great."

"Are you staying?" Chester asks, apparently oblivious to the most awkward tableaux in the existence of ever. "She can stay here, right Dad?"

"Oh, uh..." Stiles starts, swallowing against the panic he's feeling but Bec saves him by shaking her head and then reaching up to scrub a hand through Chester's hair.

"No, kiddo. I got a room at the cute little Inn your dad runs." Her gaze swings back to Stiles. "You're still running it right?"

"Yes," Stiles says.

"Awesome. I just wanted to stop in and see you guys before I head up and drop off my bags."

"You're coming back for the party?"

"Of course, kiddo," Bec says. "I'll be back in an hour or so." With that and a jaunty wave, Bec is gone, leaving Derek, Stiles and Chester all watching her car disappear down the drive.

"Awesome," Chester enthuses, then runs back to the house, yelling for Isaac as he goes.

"Awesome," Stiles groans then turns to Derek. "Hey, hi, you still in there?"

"That was... maybe I should go?" Derek says, looking uncomfortable.

"What? No! Ugh, you are not using this as an excuse to duck out of the party."

"Stiles," Derek says, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"No you don't. I'm totally owed an awkward ex encounter. Especially after the crap you put me through."

"You didn't have to meet Kate."

"You've met Bec before. She's had your pancakes."

"I kind of liked pretending she didn't exist, to be honest," Derek says, smiles a little sheepishly. 

"Aw, babycakes. There's nothing to be worried about," Stiles coos, hugs Derek's arm and watches the tenseness bleed out of Derek and turn into amused exasperation which is far more preferable. "Bec blows in like a whirlwind, stays a few days and blows back out. That's the way it's always been with her. She's a rolling stone, gathering no moss."

*

It weirds Stiles out sometimes to think of Chester having a whole life that's apart from him. He'd balked so badly at Felicia's proposal of a name change because he remembers how his mother had talked about that life, being choked by other people's expectations. He's never wanted that for Chester.

Matt is from that world, the Chilton, society world. Stiles can see from the pensive way Isaac is staring at Chester as he talks to Matt and a few of his Chilton friends, that turned up to the party although Chester swore he didn't invite them, that he's fearing that maybe being outside that world will mean some day he's left behind when Chester joins it properly.

"Who's that?" Derek asks, hooking his chin over Stiles' shoulder. He's been weird about PDA all night, especially in Bec's sight line, so Stiles leans into him shamelessly because he's missed Derek's warm presence. He might have become weirdly dependent on Derek's broad hands being on him in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"Matt Daehler, I think," Stiles says. "His family is friends with my grandparents. Have been for years. Old money likes rubbing up against other old money."

"Should I be worried I'm going to have to deal with tubs of ice cream and Die Hard marathons?" Derek asks and Stiles can't see his face with the way they're standing, but knows Derek's gaze has shifted to Isaac. Erica is now fussing over him, possibly because she's scarily observant and knows he needs the distraction. 

"I... no, I don't think so," Stiles says, but he knows he sounds uncertain. The trouble is, he can't really control who Chester falls for, and while he would prefer it be someone like Isaac, it might end up being Matt. Chester's only sixteen and likely to fall for multiple people before he's done. Stiles knows that his and Derek's involvement will make things a little awkward for the boys though since they won't be able to escape each other if it does end badly or worse, becomes mostly one-sided.

"Should we have discouraged them?" Derek asks and Stiles can hear the frown in his voice.

"We already went over this. They would have just sought each other out anyway and it might have been a lot messier."

As they're talking, Chester breaks away from the Chilton kids and makes his way over to Isaac, insinuating himself between him and Erica and grinning when Isaac gives him a grateful and somewhat relieved look. "Crisis averted," Stiles says, although for how long they can't know. "Now, how about us?" Stiles adds, turning around and linking his hands around Derek's waist.

"What about us?" Derek asks, a crease forming between his eyebrows.

"You've been avoiding me at my own party."

"I thought it was Chester's party?"

"Chester's party is always my party. Mi partay, es tu partay."

"Stop murdering yet another language," Derek huffs, but some of the tension has eased out of his face. "I just feel kinda weird with the mother of your child hovering around."

"She's not-" Stiles starts to protest but Derek turns him bodily again, points his face so Stiles can see Bec chatting with Boyd and sneaking glances his way. 

"There was definitely something going on with her face when Lydia introduced me and it looked a lot like disappointment."

"Ugh, it's because I'm pretty sure I'm her relationship crash mat," Stiles says and Derek blinks at him confused.

"What the hell does that entail?"

"When she dumps her latest Mr. This-Time-For-Sure-He's-Right, she heads my way, safe in the knowledge that I will be horribly alone and willing to sit with her for hours and watch Overboard and eat copious amounts of pizza."

"Oh."

"Then she'll tell me that maybe we could give it another shot, I start thinking maybe we _should_ for Chester, and in two or three days she's recovered enough to realize that it's not what she wants at all and she's gone."

"This is not reassuring me in the least," Derek grumbles.

"I hadn't seen her for two years this time. I really thought Michael was a keeper. They were engaged."

"Why don't I know any of this?" Derek asks, looking sour.

"Because you wear that exact face whenever I mention her. You know, the last time she was here, I didn't even entertain it when she started talking about us getting back together because I was hopelessly pining for someone else."

"Is this yet another person I should be worried about?" Derek asks, but his scowl this time is turning up at the corners.

"You're a dummy," Stiles says, punching Derek in the shoulder and he laughs and tugs Stiles into him, rubbing a stubbly cheek against Stiles' smooth one. "Oh _now_ you're interested in smooching me just because you want to mark your territory I suppose?"

"Damn right," Derek says.

"Well, I will be putting a stop to this overt display of ridiculousness-" Stiles loses the rest of his sentence when Derek strokes a warm palm up underneath his shirt and scratches blunt nails along his belly. "-um, in about three hours," he ends on a squeak. 

"Maybe."

*

"Oh god, no," Derek says, when he runs into Chester and Stiles the next day in the market. Stiles is perusing the piles of baskets for sale while Chester hovers, looking unsure. "Are you serious? Bid-a-basket?"

"It's for charity," Stiles says, getting up on his toes so he can reach the perfect one teetering on top of the pile. Derek rolls his eyes and tries to be subtle about leaning against the stack when they wobble ominously. "Plus, I have a guaranteed buyer this year. I'm not going to miss it."

"Oh yeah? Who?" Derek says, and Stiles blinks at him.

"But-"

"Stiles, it's stupid. You know I can't join in any of this stuff on principal."

"You can't join in because you know it drives Jackson crazy. Don't pretend there's any other reason."

Derek pulls a _well yeah_ face. 

"C'mon, you have to buy my basket. Otherwise I might end up with Finstock again. That was the most uncomfortable hour of my life."

"He just bid on you because he knew Scott made your food," Derek says, smirking. 

"Derek, c'mon!" 

Derek's attention turns to Chester. "Really?" he says, raising his eyebrows at the small basket Chester's clutching.

"Do you think Isaac will think it's lame?" he asks. Derek looks like he wants to say _yes_ , but instead he sighs.

"I think Isaac will empty his back account to make sure no one else is able to bid on you," he admits and Chester beams, fluttering over to the register. Derek tries to yank the basket out of Stiles' hands but he curls over it, protectively. 

"You won't leave me out there unprotected," Stiles says, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah? Try me," Derek huffs.

"If you let someone buy my basket that isn't you, you'd better reacquaint yourself with your right hand because that is the only action you're going to get in the foreseeable future."

"Ugh, gross!" Chester complains, having drifted back to them.

"Stiles, I'm not going to bid on you. I don't know why you don't think I'm serious about this."

"You're bluffing."

"You're delusional."

"Dad, _we're_ late," Chester interrupts, pushing Stiles towards the front of the store where Wendy's waiting behind the register, smirking at them. 

"What are you guys doing today?" Derek asks, following.

"Having breakfast with Chester's mom," Stiles throws over his shoulder as he's herded by Chester.

"Oh, that sounds nice," Derek says stiffly and Stiles tries not to smile to himself. He's kind of enjoying this jealous streak of Derek's if he's going to be completely honest.

"You could come?" Stiles offers as he drops his basket on the counter and digs in his pocket for his wallet.

"Um, no, I don't think..."

"It's fine, don't break something trying to come up with an excuse. Your boyfriend duty was fulfilled last night very thoroughly."

"Thank god," Derek says with feeling.

"Bec's staying for another week, so there'll be plenty of opportunities for awkward meals," Stiles says.

Derek pulls a face, but then notices Chester looking a little worried and pastes on a smile. "Great," he says with false cheer and while Chester looks mollified, Stiles throws a raised eyebrow around him. 

"I told Bec about bid-a-basket next Saturday and she said she had to stay and see that. She might find her next Mr. This-Time-For-Sure-He's-Right."

"The pickings are pretty slim," Derek says, although his face has gone tight at that and Stiles thinks maybe he's just guaranteed that Derek will be there to bid on him after all.

Isaac appears behind Derek, looking a little scared. "Why do people keep asking me if I'm going to be making a basket?"

"It's bid-a-basket next weekend," Chester explains, sliding around Stiles so he can nudge up against Isaac who smiles a little dopily at the contact. "You bid on people's packed lunches and then you eat together."

"Oh," Isaac says, then notices Chester holding a basket. " _Oh_."

"Be there or be a guy that watches his honeyboo have lunch with someone else," Stiles threatens both Isaac and Derek at the same time.

*

The week passes pretty uneventfully. Bec sees as much of Chester as school and other engagements permit. She's kind of vague about what she does for work now, not in a sinister way but in a _I'm not sure you'll understand it_ fashion which Stiles chooses to not be offended by. Whatever it is, Bec has conference calls and can work remotely which has allowed her to stay so long so Stiles won't begrudge it because Chester is thrilled.

Lydia is terse with her, which is nice in the weirdest way because Stiles is pretty sure she and Bec would get along like a house on fire if they'd met under other circumstances. Giving Bec the rough towels and the boring unscented shampoo and body wash is her way of showing she cares about Stiles' past heartbreak and he can't bring himself to stop her even though he sneaks Bec the good stuff on the sly because he feels guilty.

Bid-a-basket day dawns bright and warm even though they're getting uncomfortably close to winter and Stiles has to convince Chester to still take his basket along, filled with Scott's tasty goodies because Scott is a _saint_ and Chester is likely to poison Isaac if left to his own devices. Stiles, on the other hand, refuses help and scours the internet for picnic basket friendly delights because this year is special, this year he gets to be bid on by someone he actually wants to spend time with, despite whatever protestations Derek has made about it.

Stiles is one hundred percent positive that Derek is only messing with him. Well, maybe ninety-eight percent.

They reach the town center which is already buzzing with bidders and biddees. Stiles drops his basket off at the table with Erica, who hands him his number and gives him a big smile. She has to tug the basket out of Chester's grip and sneaks him a higher number so he doesn't have to fret as long because Erica is scary but also the absolute best.

They sit amongst the gathered townsfolk and its the nicest kind of day, a day that makes Stiles glad to live in a place like Beacon Hills. Bec had called it idealistic in an offhand way but it really is. Stiles cheers and claps as Mary Higgins gets bid on by Stuart Posten and Philip Nils blushes furiously at being picked up by Arty Simins. "I knew that was going to be a thing," Stiles leans over to whisper to Chester and he rolls his eyes but he's smiling when he turns back.

Stiles spots Derek right before Chester goes up on stage, standing back and to the side a little, arms crossed and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Stiles smiles to himself, because usually you can't pry Derek out of the diner on a day like this even with a spatula.

Chester goes up and Stiles looks around, spots Isaac shuffling forward with his hands jammed in his pockets and chewing on his lip. There are a group of giggling girls behind Stiles that start the bidding on Chester and Isaac glares at them in such outrage that they don't outbid him when he puts up thirty dollars.

Jackson calls _sold_ and Chester tries to bite back his large grin but can't quite manage it as he jogs over to the side of the stage. Isaac is already there with basket in hand, cuffs Chester on the shoulder. Stiles hears the girls behind him coo appreciatively and yes, this is going to be the _best day_.

*

It's humiliating.

Jackson opens the bidding at ten dollars because he's an ass and there's deafening silence. Stiles knows it's probably because everyone's expecting Derek to bid, but he doesn't. He just stands still and quiet, hands dug deep in his pockets, reminding Stiles strongly of Isaac.

"Did Scott make your basket?" Finstock calls from the crowd and just _no_.

"I did it myself!" Stiles snaps and Finstock grimaces which, rude, and doesn't bid.

"C'mon, I'll take one dollar," Jackson calls and Stiles fights the urge to flip him off. Derek has a hand pressed against his mouth, like he's fighting off the urge to laugh and Stiles glares at him, trying to impart just how much suffering Derek's about to go through if he doesn't bid.

Finally, Derek rolls his eyes, tugs his other hand out of his pocket and right when he's going to put up his hand, another shoots up in the crowd and a woman calls out, "Five hundred dollars!"

"Sold!" Jackson calls, looking startled and Stiles gapes at him.

"You didn't give anyone a chance to outbid," he cries.

"No one's going to pay more than five hundred dollars for you Stilinski," Jackson says, ushering Stiles off the stage. He sees, right before he's jostled down the stage steps, Derek craning his head around and looking thunderous.

When Stiles reaches the table where money is exchanged for the baskets, Bec is standing there looking delighted with herself. "Oh God Bec, that was you?"

"Of course it was me," she says, laughing. "Who else is going to pay top dollar for your ass... I mean sandwiches?"

"I was hoping maybe Derek," Stiles says, but Bec doesn't hear him, is leaning over chatting to Erica as she takes Bec's money and throws Stiles a puzzled look. 

Derek breaks free of the loose crowd then and falters when he sees Bec. Stiles turns on him, crossing his arms and pouting mightily. "See? Not so funny now, huh?"

"I was going to bid," Derek says, grimacing.

"Yeah, when it went down to a _dollar_. Nice to know how much I'm worth to you."

"Looks like I get to steal your boyfriend for the afternoon," Bec says, coming up behind them and linking her arm through Stiles', basket held in the other hand. "This is all just too small-town precious, don't you think?"

"I'm not really into this stuff," Derek says, expression stormy.

Bec squeezes Stiles' arm. "Shall we?"

"Sure," Stiles says, lets Bec lead him away and throws a scowl over his shoulder at Derek.

*

"I'm sorry I ruined your plans," Bec says, frowning and Stiles jerks, belatedly realizing that he's been sitting quietly and picking at his food for about half an hour. He feels like an asshole pouting like he is because he doesn't get to see Bec often and she's still important to him.

"Ugh, no, of course you didn't. I got the prettiest date of the afternoon," he says.

Bec snorts indelicately and pegs a grape at his face. "Shut up. I'm pretty sure Derek's prettier than me and that's just depressing since he's a guy."

"Lies," Stiles says and then they're smiling at each other, it's nice and more comfortable than it's been in a long time so that's why it takes Stiles a few seconds to react when Bec leans over and kisses him. 

"Woah, hey, _woah_ ," Stiles says, startling backwards right when Bec's mouth parts a little and the tip of her tongue touches his mouth. "Not a friend kiss!"

"Of course it's not," Bec says, giving him an odd look. "I was just thinking maybe-"

"Bec, I'm with _Derek_ ," Stiles says, scooting back from her even though he feels like a bit of an idiot for doing it. 

"I know that, I just..." Bec makes a helpless gesture with her hands. "I'm not trying to-" she cuts herself off, makes a face and says, "Okay, I'm _totally_ trying to."

"Bec, I'm _with_ Derek," Stiles repeats, because he can't think of anything else to say. He's rendered incapable of forming other coherent sentences.

"I _know_ that," Bec says. "Just... I've been thinking that maybe I'm ready for this. That I'm ready for you and Chester."

"You're _ready_ for us?" Stiles says, narrowing his eyes.

"God, don't say it like that, it's not what I meant. I see you settled and happy and I want that to."

"Bec-"

"I just... I was sitting across from Andrew-"

"Who's Andrew?"

"My boyfriend... well, my ex-boyfriend now."

"Why did I think his name was Michael?"

"Stiles!"

"Sorry."

"I was sitting across from _Andrew_ and I thought, what the hell am I doing? There is an amazing man out there who took on sole responsibility for my kid, who's sweet and funny and hot and I keep bouncing around thinking I'm going to find someone _better_ than that?"

"I honestly didn't know you thought about me when I was out of your sight line," Stiles says, immediately feels like a jerk when Bec's face crumples a little.

"That's not fair," she says in a small voice.

"I know just, you surprised me."

"Can't we give this another go? Can't we at least try?"

"Bec, I don't know what to say other than ten years ago, maybe even five I would have probably said yes for Chester's sake if not for my own. Would you have really wanted that? Do you think we would have lasted if I had?"

"Maybe," Bec says, but she doesn't sound convinced herself.

"Bec, you're not ready for us. I don't think you ever will be but that's okay. Someday you'll meet someone that just make sense, that'll be your forever. That's not me and I think deep down you know that."

"You've found him, haven't you?" Bec says, smiling although it's wobbly. "The one that makes sense."

"Yeah, I have."

*

Stiles finds Chester when he gets home sitting in the kitchen. "Hey, you're having breakfast with your mom before she takes off tomorrow. I'll take you... what?" he says when he gets a look at Chester's face.

"Did you and Mom kiss?" Chester asks, not looking at Stiles, just picking at his nails.

"What?" Stiles splutters. "How-?"

"You were sitting on the town common. Isaac saw you. _Dozens_ of people saw you."

"Honey, no, it's a little more complicated than-" What Chester says suddenly registers to Stiles. "Wait, Isaac saw us?"

"Yeah, he called. He was pretty angry."

"Oh shit," Stiles says, because that means Derek knows. Stiles isn't sure how he could've been such an idiot. He'd been so startled by Bec that he hadn't even thought about how in public they were. Even if Isaac weren't the one to see them, Stiles is sure someone who'd been only to happy to tell Derek would have. Beacon Hills was a pretty wonderful place but it's grapevine was almost supernatural in its efficiency and speed.

"So it's true?"

"Your mom kissed me. It wasn't-"

"You're happy with Derek aren't you? You're happier with him than you have been in a long time."

"Um, this conversation isn't really going in the direction I was expecting."

"Don't get me wrong, there's a small part of me that would always wish you and mom were together, but there's a bigger part of me that knows that it wouldn't work."

"Did I make you jaded about relationships already?" Stiles asks, genuinely worried about it.

"Not really."

"I'm sorry if I have, really."

"Just, would you go and make sure Derek's alright?" Chester says, standing up and basically herding Stiles out of the house. He goes, heart pounding and feeling sick to his stomach. He hasn't done anything wrong, but Derek's got a head start on him, on making more of this than it is, plus he has the indignity of having to hear it from someone other than Stiles.

Stiles reaches the diner in record time, jumps the three steps up to the door and pushes through. 

"No," Derek says, from behind the counter as soon as he spots Stiles.

"But-"

"I have customers," Derek hisses, pointing and everyone of them is staring at him.

"If you think I'm going to go away so you have more time to stew then you're crazy."

"Please fix whatever you did," Greenburg says from a table near the window. "His coffee tastes angry. How is that even possible?"

"Fine," Derek snarls through his teeth and Stiles follows on his heels up the stairs after Derek nods at Hayley to take over. Derek turns on Stiles as soon as they're in his upstairs apartment and what shocks Stiles is that Derek doesn't look angry, he just looks defeated.

"Bec kissed me."

"Yeah, I heard, thanks."

"No, listen. Bec kissed _me_. I didn't kiss her back. There was no mutual kissage."

"That doesn't matter."

"Of course it does," Stiles says, flailing his hands. 

"I don't see how."

"She kissed me, I stopped her and told her that I was with you. _That's_ how it matters."

"That's the only reason you stopped her, because you're with me?"

"What other reason is there?"

"Derek, are you kidding me right now?" Stiles narrows his eyes. "You're trying to pick a fight with me, aren't you?"

"I don't think I need to pick a fight when you've kissed your ex. I think the fight just naturally happens around it."

"What is going on? You're being completely unreasonable about this."

"Stiles, you don't get to tell me what to be about _this_. I just need some time to-"

"No! I already said I'm not giving you time to stew and I meant it. We're going to work this out, _now_ , like adults."

"You are the most aggravating person I've ever met."

"Yeah? Good. Look, I'm not letting you talk yourself out of this because I lo-"

Derek is suddenly there, hands fisted in Stiles' shirtfront, pressing him against the door but not in the fun, sexy way. "Don't you dare," he growls. "Don't you dare say that to me the first time like this, _now_."

"But Derek-"

"Stiles," Derek says, letting him go and stepping back. "Just, please leave."

"I'm not Kate," Stiles blurts, can't really believe it came out of his mouth but he's desperate. Derek goes scarily still, eyes icing over further even though Stiles didn't think it was possible. "Look, I know you've just been waiting for me to fail you somehow, leave you, but I'm not going to. You're stuck with me buddy, whether you like it or not."

"Leave, now," Derek grits out.

"Don't do this," Stiles begs, because he knows that if they don't fix this tonight, it's going to be harder to come back from. "Please don't do this."

Derek just turns his back on Stiles, his head drops and Stiles knows that if he pushes anymore, he's just going to make things worse. 

Stiles leaves.


	2. Chapter 2

"Should I push Chester into a large body of water?"

Derek looks up from the table he'd rescued from Erica's dusty attic. He hadn't really felt the need to have somewhere to eat before he had Isaac and while it reduces their open floor space, Derek feels it's important to sit down to meals now. He wants to give Isaac as much normal as he can considering the upheavals he's gone through, the loss he's had.

"What?"

"When you were being an asshole to Stiles, Chester pushed me in the lake. Now Stiles is the asshole-"

"He's not an asshole," Derek interrupts, rubbing at his temples. He hadn't gone back down to the diner after Stiles had left. It was a bit of a dick move to leave Hayley on her own, but she's closed up before and she would have come upstairs and dragged him down by the ear if she'd been really struggling. She'll gleefully gouge him for the overtime and they'll both feel better about it.

"He's not?"

"Bec kissed him. He stopped her."

"Oh, well... that's good?" Isaac says, sounding unsure. "Just, he looked kind of terrible when he left."

"We broke up," Derek says. "I think."

"What? Why?"

Derek can't really articulate the reason. Maybe it was because he suddenly felt like he was driving a wedge between a family, that if he removed himself Stiles and Bec could have a chance, _deserved_ a chance. If he's being really honest though, it's possibly what Stiles had said last that most affected him, that Stiles wasn't Kate.

If he really is doing that, expecting history to repeat itself then it might have been selfishly unfair to get involved because they could never be truly happy while one of them was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"It's complicated."

"That's not so subtle code for you don't know," Isaac says. "That's bullshit."

"Isaac, not now. Really," Derek says.

"Sorry, just, Stiles can be a bit of a dick, but he's good for you."

"Maybe I'm not good for him," Derek says.

"Derek-"

"Can we just... can we just eat all of the leftover pie from downstairs and maybe talk about this tomorrow?"

"So, the mature approach then?"

"Shut up."

"I'll allow a single day of wallowing before I kick some sense into you."

"Fair enough."

*

Derek's just flipped the diner sign to _open_ and is on his way back to the counter when the bell above the door jangles. He turns and freezes because Bec is standing in the middle of the diner, arms crossed and a determined set to her mouth.

"Hello?" he says. He kind of feels like yelling at her, especially since she doesn't look like she's there to apologize, but he resists the urge. He's honestly too thrown to see her to do much of anything. 

"Stiles and I are meant to be together," Bec says. 

"What?"

" _Were_ supposed to be together I guess you can say now. I was going to get my shit together eventually and it wasn't going to be too late for me to realize he was the one I should have been with all along."

"Is this some kind of weird pep talk?" Derek asks, completely confused.

"Please," Bec snorts. "If there was a way to forcibly eject you from his life that didn't involve jail time I would totally do it, don't think I wouldn't."

"Okay?"

"I keep telling myself that he's with you for now, that it's not forever, but Stiles is kind of a forever guy."

"Listen, Bec, I know you feel the need to vent or whatever it is you're doing, but I'm really not the right target. We broke up."

Bec blinks for a moment, opens and closes her mouth. "What?"

"I've gotta sort some stuff out," Derek says. "I've gotta-" Derek's going to say _make sure I deserve him_ but Bec just holds up a small hand.

"Y'know, that's what I thought too. That's what I told him too. If you're not sure about Stiles, then don't string him along. He doesn't deserve that."

"I told you, we broke up. I think that's the opposite of stringing him along."

"Does he know you broke up?"

It's Derek's turn to fish mouth for a second, because the words weren't implicitly stated but there was definite implication there. "Yes?"

"Wow, you sound so certain. How about you be a man and actually break up with him instead of being vague about it." Bec starts to storm out, turns back. "Don't be a dick and do it over text, either."

"I don't own a cell phone."

"You don't own a cell-?" Bec just throws her hands up in a _I give up_ kind of way. 

Half an hour later, Greenburg takes his first sip of coffee for the morning and then promptly spits it out again. "How do you make coffee taste _sad_?"

"It's an art form," Derek says gruffly.

*

Isaac is at a movie with Chester the next night when there's a knock on the door. Derek hesitates, because he's not sure if he's up for another confrontation with Stiles. He knows he's probably being an idiot but he needs to get his head straight and Stiles has always muddled things for him, completely derailed rational thought.

"I know you're in there, Hale!" Erica bawls at him through the door and Derek gets up and yanks it open. Erica waggles a bottle of Wild Turkey. "This is a drinking emergency, right?"

"I don't need to get shitfaced," Derek says, but he steps aside and she breezes in past him. He's not sure how he ended up with Erica as a best friend, sometimes thinks it might be more of a curse than a blessing but he's happy she's part of his life regardless, even if she forced her way in whether he liked it or not.

"Maybe _I_ do, huh? Ever think about that?"

"What could you possibly need to be drinking about?" Derek says, rolling his eyes. "You have a hot doctor boyfriend and an army of sugar plum fairies to order around."

"Boyd proposed."

"He did? That's fantastic!"

"I know, right? That's a normal reaction. I, on the other hand, laughed kind of hysterically and then told him I had to think about it."

"You what?"

"I fail at life," Erica says, throwing herself down on Derek's couch dramatically. 

They drink, a lot. So much so that by the time Derek realizes he's detailing exactly what happened with Stiles and then Bec after, pretty much word for word, it's too late. 

"You want me to kick her ass?" Erica offers a little soddenly. They'd demolished the bottle Erica had brought, mostly because it was only half full when she arrived and were working their way through the dregs of other bottles Derek had in the apartment. Derek didn't even remember buying most of them. "You can't hit a girl but I certainly can."

"She's Chester's mom, she and Stiles have a history I can't touch."

"Some of that history involves her leaving him, don't forget."

"We can't judge, we don't really know what happened."

"I can judge. I'm judging right now. She knew Stiles was with you and she shamelessly macked on him anyway. Who does that?"

"I don't want you to hit her."

"Pow, right in the kisser!"

"Erica."

"Fine, ugh, you're so vanilla."

"If Stiles and I are meant to be, it'll work out."

"That's very passive of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have to fight for what's yours. And honey, Stiles is _yours_. I saw him that night after Kate got here and-"

"What? When?"

"I picked up his drowned ass. He was miserable."

Derek's heart clenches a little to hear that. Kate had taken him completely by surprise and if she hadn't arrived that night then... 

"He mentioned Kate. Said he wasn't her, that I was expecting him to be but he wasn't."

"You nearly married her and she left you at the altar. That's going to make anyone gun shy."

"Am I really just waiting for him to leave me?" Derek asks, although he knows the answer to that. He'd been ridiculously gone for Stiles for such a long time. He'd gotten used to setting it aside. It was safe to keep him at a distance because then he couldn't be hurt. Stiles had told him that Bec treated him like her relationship safe zone, maybe Derek was a little guilty of that too in a slightly different way. He was able to keep any other potential partners at arm's length because Stiles was always a background possibility, a quietly humming yearning.

Perhaps he hadn't been quite as ready as he'd thought to promote Stiles to full time boyfriend.

"Look, you guys had a fight and there was a good reason. Every fight when you're this new feels like _the_ fight, feels like the end."

"I told Bec we'd broken up."

Erica looks at him. She's squinting a little like she does when she's teetering on the edge between delightfully tipsy and utterly trashed. "You told Bec that? Did you tell _Stiles_?"

"It was heavily implied."

"Derek," Erica groans. "She wants him back so she's going to run right to him and make it sound like you're telling everyone you're broken up before you've discussed it with him. You're second-party dumping him. That's lower than doing it by text."

"Do people actually do that? Break up with someone by _text_?"

"Focus," Erica says, shooting a hand out and viciously pinching his nipple. Derek is rolling around on the floor in outraged pain when Isaac comes in.

"I don't want to know," he decides, then clomps into Derek's bedroom. "I'm taking your bed!"

"Brat!" Derek yells at him.

*

Derek can't stay in bed and nurse his hangover like a normal person, like _Erica_ is probably doing right now. He hates her with every fiber of his being as he waits for the bread delivery and then opens up, making early morning coffee for the people that look about as bleary and unamused as he feels.

At eight Chester comes through the door, looking unsure. Derek forces a smile at him and Chester approaches, chewing on the skin around his thumb. "Um, I left a book with Isaac that I need?" he says, eyes darting towards the stairs.

"Go on up, he's in my room," Derek says and Chester darts around the counter and stomps up the stairs. Derek looks out the front window, expecting to see Stiles hovering, but what he's not expecting is to see Amy Tempse handing Stiles one of Derek's to-go coffee cups. 

Derek hurtles outside and Stiles nearly drops the coffee in surprise when he spots him, juggles it for a moment before he gets a proper hand on it. "I thought you knew you weren't allowed to send in proxies for your coffee," Derek says as Amy beats a prudently hasty retreat. "I thought the proxies understood the repercussions of their actions!" he yells at her back.

"You can't cut me off. It's inhumane," Stiles says, holding the coffee a little behind himself like he's expecting Derek to make a grab for it.

"You can come in," Derek says.

"Excuse me if I didn't really feel like facing you today," Stiles grumbles, exasperated.

"Look, Stiles, maybe we should-" Derek starts but Stiles' expression closes down.

"No, that's fine. I got your message."

"Stiles," Derek says. Erica was right, damn her, and he's accidentally dumped Stiles via his _ex_ which is the worst thing he could have possibly done. Mostly because he woke up not only with a hangover but the certainty that he _had_ overreacted and if he wrecks things with Stiles... he just can't wreck things with Stiles.

It's not an option.

"You know, I never took you for a coward," Stiles says, breaking into his thoughts.

"What?"

"If you'd decided that I wasn't worth it, you should've told _me_. Do you know what that felt like, hearing it from Bec?"

"I'm sure she couldn't wait to tell you," is what Derek says, when he should be apologizing. He's not sure what his mouth is doing but it's certainly not taking much direction from his brain.

"Don't try to blame Bec, Jesus," Stiles spits. 

"Look, it was a mistake-"

"Yeah, I get that you think this was all a mistake," Stiles says, flailing a hand between them which is not what Derek was going to say at all. Before he can correct Stiles though, Chester's appeared behind him, looking a little worried.

"Everything okay?"

"Fine, kid," Stiles says. "Did you ask him?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"He said yes. He doesn't want to wear a tux though."

"We'll work something out," Stiles says, dropping an arm around Chester and shoving the to-go cup of coffee at Derek in the same motion. Derek takes it automatically.

"What's happening?" he asks.

"I've got my Winter Formal coming up next month. I asked Isaac. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is," Derek says. He tries to catch Stiles' gaze but Stiles is looking anywhere but at him. "Don't worry, I'll get Isaac in a tux for you, even if I have to sit on him."

"Thanks," Chester says, laughing. 

"Well, we'd better go," Stiles says. 

"Stiles-" Derek says but Stiles just shakes his head and tugs Chester away.

*

Derek waits till the end of the week, giving Stiles time to let go of some of his anger and hurt. Derek only gets angrier given time alone, but Stiles is the opposite, more amenable to apology if he's left to sort stuff out in his brain.

He goes to Stiles' house, contemplates making a cheesy, romantic gesture because Stiles loves that kind of stuff but in the end he just heads over and plans to grovel if need be. He wants to apologize for putting stuff on Stiles that has nothing to do with him. He pulls up, gets out of his truck and then frowns when he notices the jeep is gone. 

"Derek, honey. What are you doing here?" Lenore calls from her porch. Derek ambles over to her, kicking at the leaves across Stiles' drive and into Lenore's front yard. 

"Hi Lenore. Do you know where Stiles is?"

"He and Chester went on a road trip. Said something about getting away for a few days."

"Oh," Derek says. His heart clenches a little because Stiles only ever runs if he's really hurting. Derek could kick himself. 

"What's this I hear about you guys having problems?" Lenore asks. She's a pretty forward woman and Derek winces. "Are you going to sort that out?"

"Yes, definitely," Derek says, nodding.

"Good. How about you come in and have some spaghetti. I always make enough for an army. Lord knows why, it's just me and Boris."

Stiles is always at him to be more of a people person and even though he won't know about it, Derek figures it can't hurt to do something that would please him. 

"Sure," Derek agrees.

*

Stiles comes back three days later. Derek knows because Isaac gets a phone call and then rushes right out, only offering the explanation of _Chester_ as he goes. Derek resists the urge to do the same even though it's hard, thinks maybe he needs to let Stiles come to him when he's ready just this once.

Derek keeps this resolve for all of two hours, before he thinks screw it and heads for his truck. He very nearly backs over Stiles in his haste to pull out of his parking spot in front of the diner and practically falls out of his truck because for a second he can't see Stiles at all and is terrified it's because Stiles is _under the truck_. 

Stiles is mostly fine, standing on the curb and rubbing at his elbow that Derek clipped with his side mirror. "Are you alright?" he demands, reaching for him, wanting to pat him down and make sure that he didn't squish anything important.

"Just winged me," Stiles confirms and he's letting Derek manhandle him to reassure himself which is nice of him. Derek finally relents his grip and steps away, rubbing at the back of his head and grimacing. 

"I wasn't trying to run you over on purpose," he offers. "I was actually on my way to see you."

"I didn't really think you wanted to do me in badly enough to flatten me in the middle of the day with a bunch of witnesses," he says, indicating the town common and the cluster of little girls dressed like snowflakes gaping at them. Erica is with them and looks like she's about to storm across the road but Derek waves her off. "You were on your way to see me?"

"I want to know what I have to do to make this right again. I can't... this isn't..."

Stiles pulls a face, but it's more amused than anything else. "Don't hurt yourself there, Der."

"Stiles, I don't think this, _us_ , is a mistake. It's probably the best thing in my life."

"Probably?"

"Apart from Isaac, it _is_ the best thing in my life," Derek asserts and Stiles ducks his head but not before Derek can see that he's biting on a smile. "Were you... did I interrupt you on your way to something with near flattening?"

"I was on my way to see you, dumbass," Stiles says.

"Yeah?"

"How could I not after you poured your heart out to Lenore. She said you were so sad that you nearly made _Boris_ cry. She said you were pining."

"She's an evil woman."

"No way, I love her. Especially when she tells me you were practically crying into your spaghetti."

"I was not!" Derek snaps, embarrassed and Stiles breaks down into hooting laughter, holding his sides. When he recovers, Derek asks, "Do you think we could possibly be okay?"

"I'm still a little pissed at you for second-hand dumping me."

"I didn't... I'm sorry. It was stupid to tell Bec that but she cornered me. She sees me as the only obstacle to her happily ever after."

"You know that's not true, though, right?" Stiles presses.

"I guess..."

"Derek, me and Bec had fifteen years to get back together if we were going to. We didn't."

"Yeah, I know."

"You're it for me, even though you are pretty annoying and your feet smell terrible."

"Lies," Derek says, but now he can feel the smile on his own face.

"Seriously. Odour eaters. Buy some."

"Stiles."

"Or wear socks. It's not that hard."

"Stiles!"

"Yes, I think we'll be okay," Stiles says and he's grinning in that way that punches Derek in the gut every time. Derek moves forward but Stiles puts a hand to his chest. Before Derek can worry about being stopped, Stiles jerks a thumb across the road.

"Snowflakes," he reminds Derek and they do indeed still have a captive audience. As Derek glances over, he also sees Erica giving him a slow clap and Derek only doesn't flip her off because of the gathered small girls in impractical costumes.

"So," Stiles continues, circling fingers around Derek's wrist and tugging lightly. "My dad's coming for dinner tomorrow and I already told him about you..."

"I wouldn't miss it," Derek says and Stiles looks relieved and pleased.

*

Sheriff Stilinski has a weathered face and kind eyes. Derek knows from the few photos Stiles has that he's mostly his mother in looks but there's still a resemblance.

The Sheriff shakes his and Isaac's hands seriously, then reaches up to ruffle Chester's hair and actually hugs Stiles after only a brief hesitation and Derek decides that he could like this man a great deal.

Dinner is easy. When you have two Stilinskis in the house, you're never lacking for conversation but three of them has Derek gasping for breath between hiccupping laughter. The Sheriff balances Stiles' outlandish humor with a dryer wit and Derek's left not really minding at all that he can't really get a word in edgewise. 

After dinner, when Stiles sets Chester and Isaac to dish duty and has disappeared upstairs to find the most embarrassing baby pictures of Chester he can, the Sheriff sits opposite Derek in the living room and fixes him with a steely glare. 

"I didn't really get to be there for Stiles' formative years," he says.

"No, sir."

"He thinks you hang the moon."

"Uh, that's good, right?"

"I'm just saying, I didn't get to do the scary dad routine on any teenage suitors for my son, so you'll forgive me if I catch up now."

"Are you warning me off?" Derek asks, swallowing.

The Sheriff chuckles. "No, nothing like that. Just letting you know that if you hurt him, I know how to cover up a murder."

"Yes sir," Derek says and the Sheriff stares at him levelly for a moment, perhaps taking his measure, before he nods.

"Okay then," he says, just as Stiles thumps down the stairs, brandishing a DVD case. 

"Who wants to watch Chester in a Beacon Hills presentation of The Nutcracker Suite?" Stiles crows as Chester launches himself out of the kitchen to tackle him.

*

"What are you doing?" Derek asks, knows he'll probably regret asking. Stiles and Chester are staring out the diner window raptly and keep pulling faces at each other.

"We're playing one, two, three, he's yours," Stiles says. "I saw it on a sitcom once."

"What's...?" Derek starts to ask, thinks better of it and says, "Y'know what? Never-"

"You get three chances to find your future husband," Stiles explains because he can never leave a question unanswered, even a half one that someone bailed out of. "You can take or pass on the first or second person you see, but the third one is yours."

"You do realize that you're both in fulfilling relationships, right?"

"It's not real," Chester says and Stiles puts a hand to his heart dramatically.

"You take that back! One, two, three, he's yours is sacred and we are honor bound to abide by its rules."

"Hey, Derek is the third guy-" Chester starts to say.

"He's disqualified because he's aware of the game," Stiles huffs.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want your future betrothed to be aware of it."

"Hush," Stiles says. "I've passed on two already so the next person we see is going to be my future husband." 

Derek leans down so he's eye level with Stiles and Chester, then shakes his head at himself. "Why am _I_ looking?"

"You have a vested interest in my future happiness."

"Not that vested if you're marrying someone else," Derek snorts, squeezing the back of Stiles' neck. It's probably an unfair move considering he knows that it makes Stiles melt into a pliable, happy puddle and Stiles smacks at his hand. 

"And the winner is..." Stiles says as someone appears at the corner of the window with his back turned. The man turns around and, "Oh no!"

"My new daddy!" Chester cries delighted.

"Jackson?" Derek huffs. "I hope you're very happy together."

"I call shenanigans," Stiles groans, dropping his head onto his arms. 

Jackson pushes through the doors into the diner and it's Derek's turn to groan. Jackson wouldn't actually deign to eat inside the diner so when he comes in, it's always in an _official_ capacity. It also always spells trouble when he's carrying a box. 

"That better not be decorations of any kind," Derek warns. "We're nowhere near a major holiday and you know how I feel about the ones you make up."

"I don't _make up_ holidays," Jackson huffs. "There is a committee that designates certain holiday-free periods as-"

"Jackson, you have three seconds to reach a point before I toss you out on your over-styled head."

"This is actually something even _you_ can't have a problem with," Jackson says. He goes to set his box down on Derek's counter but Derek bodily blocks him. Jackson rolls his eyes. "Just, look in the box."

Derek does, grudgingly but it's only a bunch of pamphlets. "What are these?" he asks, suspicious.

"We're getting more tourists to the area. I thought, and by me I mean the tourist committee, that it would be prudent to have a map of the local sites, transport options and," Jackson looks a little pained as he adds, "Local eateries."

"That... doesn't sound terrible. What's the catch?" Derek asks, because there always is one.

"There's no catch," Jackson says as Stiles nudges up against Derek, plucking the pamphlet out of his hand and unfolding it.

"Oh cool!" he enthuses. "Everything's here. So many people get lost looking for the..." Stiles' brow furrows and then his expression grows stormy. "Jackson, the Inn isn't on this map."

"It was decided it was outside the designated tourism area," Jackson says.

"What?" Stiles splutters. " _Outside the_... Jackson! The Inn _is_ the tourism area. You wouldn't have tourism if it wasn't for the..." Stiles' expression grows more outraged which Derek didn't even think was possible. "You have the Glass Tree Inn on here. That's in _Silver Lakes_!"

"It's close enough for day trips," Jackson says. 

"I won't stand for this!" Stiles practically screeches and he even _lunges_ at Jackson. Derek catches him easily, folds Stiles into himself as Jackson startles backwards. 

"You can submit in writing a request to have the Crescent Moon Inn included in the brochure when we do a reprint."

"When's that going to be?" Derek asks, smacking a hand over Stiles' mouth when all he does is start to call Jackson something that's a little too colorful for the eight and ten year olds sitting at the table by the window.

"In six months."

"Six _months_?" Stiles splutters, having liberated his mouth by licking Derek's hand and his body by elbowing Derek in the gut. He darts forward again, this time Derek isn't quick enough to catch him, and snatches the box of brochures out of Jackson's grip. He runs out of the diner with Jackson in hot pursuit, yelling. There's a scuffle outside, the box gets launched into the street where it's promptly run over by a truck.

"Looks like true love to me," Derek says to Chester.

*

Derek can hear the shouting going on inside the Stilinski household when he's only on the porch. He thinks about knocking, but they're expecting him and it doesn't sound like either Chester or Stiles will hear the door given the volume so Derek slips through the door and finds Stiles dogging Chester's footsteps to his room and back.

Despite being joined at the hip most of the time, Stiles and Chester do fight on occasion because Chester is still a teenager and Stiles is sometimes mentally one. They're so similar that Derek's amazed they don't fight more often, but this looks serious.

"I don't get why you're so bent out of shape about this," Chester says as he emerges from his room, carrying a backpack. 

"I don't get why you _don't_ ," Stiles snaps, and then he's snatching a sweater out of Chester's grip that he was about to jam into his backpack. "Would you stop packing, you're not going anywhere!"

"I am. They're sending a car."

"They're sending a _car_? Do you know how pretentious that sounds?"

"It's not pretentious when it's a fact."

"Hey, hello? What's going on?" Derek asks, a little hesitantly because he's not sure if he should step in between a Stilinski showdown but they both look upset and likely to say things to each other they're going to regret when they cool down.

"Darth Maul and Emperor Palpatine-"

"Dad!"

" _Fine_. Chester's great-grandparents asked him about changing his name."

"You knew they were going to do that, right?" Derek says. Stiles is trying to intercept more clothes going into Chester's bag and they're currently engaged in a tug-of-war over a t-shirt. Derek steps forward and removes both the backpack and the shirt from harm's way. Chester and Stiles cross their arms and glare at each other and it would be funny if they both didn't look so murderous.

"He didn't say no," Stiles grits out.

Derek raises his eyebrows, looks at Chester in surprise.

"Not _yet_ ," Chester says, opening his arms and flinging his hands out, obviously frustrated. "I told them I had to think about it. I didn't want to be rude."

"To _them_. What about me, huh?"

"Dad, I'm not going to change my name."

"Why didn't you tell them that then?"

"Because they do a lot for me and I didn't want to just dismiss it without them thinking that I'd given it some real thought."

"That sounds-" _Reasonable_ Derek is going to say but Stiles throws a betrayed look at him that stops him from finishing the sentence. "Where are you going?" he asks Chester instead.

"He's not going anywhere," Stiles says sharply.

"I'm going to their place so Dad can calm then hell down."

"I don't want to calm down."

"Obviously," Chester says, then hits Derek with imploring eyes. "Can you talk him away from the cliff?"

"Don't try to hide behind Derek," Stiles says. He goes to grab Chester's backpack off the couch where Derek had tossed it but Chester intercepts him and just like that they're back to tug of war again. Derek pries the bag out of both their grips for a second time. 

"Chester, how about you go grab some stuff from your room and call your great-grandparents, tell them you don't need a car. I'll take you."

"Derek-" Stiles starts to protest but Derek holds him off as Chester scuttles. 

"He's not going to change his name. C'mon, think about it."

"I realized something," Stiles says, low-voiced. "I realized that they're staging a hostile takeover in subtle phases."

"What?"

"First they get him a room, then the name thing, _then_ they'll start hinting about Chilton being much closer to their place and maybe Chester should stay with them during the week and suddenly I'm _weekend dad_."

"That's not going to happen."

"I don't want to lose him."

"You're not going to lose him, Jesus," Derek says, wraps arms around Stiles and hugs him. Stiles resists for a moment, stiff and miserable, before he relents and slumps into Derek. "I'll drive him over there and talk to him _without_ flying off the handle about it like you're doing. I'll go get him in the morning so you know he's coming back and won't have to sit around fretting."

"They'll be working on him while he's there."

"Chester's a pretty stubborn kid. I don't think anyone could talk him into anything he doesn't want to do. Reminds me of someone actually."

"Yeah, alright," Stiles huffs.

*

Chester is quiet on the way to Hartford, picking at his nails and only occasionally looking at Derek. Finally he sighs heavily when they're about halfway and says, "I'm not changing my name."

"I know," Derek says, throws Chester a grin. 

"They just... they looked really excited about the idea and I couldn't say no straight away."

"You didn't want to hurt their feelings. When your dad calms down he'll know it too."

"He thinks I don't notice but I do. They don't get along at all and I wish they would."

"I'm not going to pretend to know what your great-grandparents are thinking or your dad but they all love you. Sometimes it makes them do zany things."

"I think maybe it's because he looks too much like my grandmother. I don't really remember her because she died when I was little but I've seen photos. They don't have any up but there are albums and dad has a couple. He looks just like her."

"Possibly. Folks carry hurt a long time. They can take it out on the wrong people."

They're quiet again for a while and then Chester asks, "Are you guys okay?" He shoots Derek a pensive look. 

"Yeah, we're okay," Derek says. 

"Good," Chester decides. 

Derek's relieved when he pulls up that no one is in the turnaround for the large house that belongs to Chester's great-grandparents. He's a little daunted by it and is secretly glad that it's a woman in a maid's uniform that answers the door when he walks Chester up. 

"Thanks Derek," Chester says, surprises Derek by darting in for a quick hug.

"I'll get you at about nine tomorrow."

"Okay. Go look after my dad. He's liable to eat himself into a sugar coma."

*

Stiles and Chester's fight spurs Derek into action along a similar vein. He sits down opposite Isaac the next day and says, "I was going to ask you if you'd like to change your name."

"Yeah?" Isaac says, tapping his chin. "How about Studly McAwesome?"

"To _Hale_ ," Derek clarifies, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. Just..."

"You don't have to," Derek says quickly.

Isaac rubs over his face with his hands and then offers Derek a wry look. "I know you don't like my dad much."

"That's not what this is about," Derek says.

"It kinda is and I get it, I do. He's just... he's still my dad."

"I know," Derek says, reaches across the table to squeeze Isaac's shoulder.

"He wasn't always so... I remember having fun with him. I remember him making my mom laugh so hard she'd snort. When I think of him, of _them_ , I think of that. I don't really think about him dropping me off here like he can't be bothered with me."

Isaac chews on his lip for a moment before he says, "I do want to be a Hale though."

"You already are," Derek says. "Only a Hale would have these cheekbones, right?"

Isaac snorts when he laughs.

*

Isaac and Derek arrive at Stiles' house to see that the Sheriff's cruiser is already there. Isaac tugs nervously on his collar, swallows and says, "Geez, that's not intimidating at all."

"He played the heavy with me already. I think you'll be fine."

"You don't think he'll be _more_ protective of his grandson?" Isaac asks incredulously and Derek pulls a face at him.

"I don't think he'll threaten to shoot you."

"Did he threaten to shoot _you_?" Isaac asks, his voice going high and hilariously tight.

"There were certain... implications made," Derek admits and then they look at each other and both crack up.

"We're doomed," Isaac gasps out.

"Totally," Derek agrees.

They both startle badly when there's a tap on Derek's window. "Should I be worried you two loonies are sitting out here in your truck cackling?" Stiles asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"What are you doing out here?" Derek asks as he slides out of the truck.

"I'm manning the grill."

"You're doing what?"

"That's what my dad called it," Stiles says, waving a hand at a portable BBQ set up on the porch. Stiles has a pair of tongs in hand and an apron that says, _Kiss the bad ass_. Stiles blinks a little at Derek, repeats, "My _dad_ ," like he's getting used to the feel of that in his mouth.

"You getting ready to start calling him that?" Derek asks as he catches Isaac on his way past him, makes him stand still while he straightens his tie and Isaac fidgets. 

"I think so? Maybe?" Stiles says. "He seems like a pretty stable guy and I think he likes us. It might be safe to start getting attached."

The way he says that has Derek suspecting that it's probably far too late when it comes to the getting attached part.

Stiles' dad pushes out of the house then, holding a tray of hamburgers and nods at Derek and Isaac. Chester trips out after him, looking Friday-night dapper in his suit. He's got a camera around his neck that the Sheriff liberates from him when he puts the meat down. 

"Oh my God," Isaac groans as the Sheriff waves him over and then jostles Isaac and Chester together so he can take pictures. They're extremely awkward at first, but then they start to relax and Derek's pretty sure there'll be at least a couple of nice photos that will be fit for polite society when they're done.

"I want a copy of the one of Chester making bunny ears behind Isaac's head," he says as the Sheriff starts complaining about the boys horsing around when they start to get bored of playing nice.

"No duh," Stiles says, grinning. "The one where Isaac has Chester in a headlock is going on the mantle."

Derek's glad to see Isaac laughing and happy. He'd been pretty nervous before they left, taking Chester to a Chilton dance, being surrounded by stuffy society types and worrying about embarrassing himself and Chester. He'd been partially mollified when Derek told Isaac he could take the truck.

"You know, I can drive them. Send a message," the Sheriff says as he finally sets the boys free and moves over to join Derek and Stiles by the BBQ. He gets his hand smacked when he reaches for the tongs. 

"That they're delinquents that need a police escort?" Stiles says, but he looks like he's thinking about it.

"No, they'll be fine," Derek says.

"So, you're staying here then?" the Sheriff asks, raising an eyebrow at Derek.

"Isaac's coming back tonight. I mean, I do stay here sometimes-" Derek says, but at the Sheriff's nostril-flare he amends, "But, um, to sleep? _Only_ to sleep?"

"Dude, we're adults. He doesn't think we lie in bed chastely with a pillow wall between us," Stiles snorts, flipping burgers. 

When the Sheriff gives him a steely glare, Derek says, "That's because I sleep on the couch Stiles, with all my clothes on."

"Wuss," Stiles huffs, takes a moment to curl an arm around Derek's middle and squeeze. Then he's fending off Chester and Isaac who are making grabs for the pile of cooked burgers. "No, not for you! You're going to a place where they play stuffy music and serve dry chicken."

Both Isaac and Chester gives Stiles tragic puppy faces.

"Fine, alright," he relents, makes them both plates and then sends them into the house. "Sit at the kitchen table and don't get ketchup on your suits!"

*

"-rek."

"Wha-?"

"Derek."

"Hunh?"

"Derek!"

Derek jolts awake, only just saves himself from rolling off the couch and hitting his face on the coffee table by grabbing the back of it. "Stiles? What the hell?"

"We fell asleep," Stiles says. He sounds far too panicked about that.

"So? Oh god, is your dad here? I'm dressed!"

"No, Derek, listen to what I'm saying! We fell asleep and it's daylight and the boys aren't home."

"Stiles, slow down. I was unconscious like, eighteen seconds ago. What do you mean they're not home? Did they go out to breakfast?"

"No, they were _never_ home. Chester's bed isn't slept in, he's not here and neither is Isaac. They were supposed to be here. They were supposed to be here at midnight and you were going to go back home with Isaac and-"

"Stiles, stop. Breathe for a second. Are you sure they haven't been back and gone out again?"

"Chester's bed isn't slept in," Stiles repeats.

"How do you know that?" Derek asks, thinking about the mess that is perpetually Isaac's bed. Sometimes Derek can't tell if Isaac's even in it or not.

"He's a freak of teenage nature that makes his bed. It's still made from last night."

"Okay, Stiles, stop freaking out because you're starting to freak me out."

"You should be freaked out. Why aren't you freaked out?"

"Did they call you? Maybe we didn't hear it because we were asleep?" Derek glares balefully at the DVD case on the coffee table. Stupid Green Mile, puts him straight out every time no matter how much Stiles insists he would enjoy it if he could just get through the whole thing.

"No, nothing," Stiles says, makes grabby hands at Derek's pocket. "Can you check yours? Maybe Isaac called you?"

Derek yanks his phone out of his pocket, checks and he doesn't have any missed calls or unread texts. 

"Maybe they're in the hospital. Maybe something terrible happened," Stiles says and now he's breathing raggedly and Derek's starting to really worry about him. "I should call my dad."

"He's in Silver Lakes."

"He could call the National Guard, or the army. Get some helicopters in here."

"I think you've overestimating the resources of a small town Sheriff."

"Stop being calm! They could be hurt. If they were hurt though they would have called though. They could be _dead_ -"

"Stiles-" Derek starts to say and that's when Stiles' phone rings in his hand, startling them both. Stiles juggles the phone for a second before he's able to get it up to his ear.

"Chester?" he barks, then frowns. "Oh, Erica-what? They were what? Oh, no, _thank you_ ," Stiles says, then hangs up. "They were asleep in Erica's studio. She woke them up when she opened for her morning yoga class. Last she saw Chester was running this way like his ass was on fire and Isaac was heading back to your place."

"Thank God," Derek asserts, palming Stiles' head and reeling him in. Stiles is trembling and Derek holds him tighter, squeezes until they both hear the door and then Stiles is leaping for it. Derek hears Chester squawk in surprise at being set on as soon as he's through.

"Where the hell have you-?" Stiles starts to say, then, "What happened to your _face_?"

Derek doesn't have to ask what that means because Stiles has towed Chester into the living room, possibly because there's better light. As he's manhandling Chester onto the couch, Derek can see that one of Chester's eyes is swollen almost shut and there's some spectacular blackening starting to occur around the whole thing.

"What happened?" Stiles demands again.

"Dad, it's not a big-"

"Don't tell me it's not a big deal. I'm having a heart attack here. Where _were_ you?"

"We had about half an hour before curfew because we had to leave the dance early-"

"Did Isaac hit you?" 

"What?" Both Chester and Derek exclaim at the same time, then Chester says, "No!"

"What-?"

"If you'd stop interrupting me, maybe I could tell you," Chester shouts and Stiles grabs his shoulders, shakes him. 

"Do you know what that was like, waking up and you _weren't here_?"

"I'm sorry, okay? It was an accident!"

Derek puts a hand to Stiles' shoulder, squeezes. "What happened kid?" he asks Chester as Stiles' breathing goes a little uneven again. Derek rubs a hand up and down Stiles' back, trying to urge him to be calmer.

"We had about half an hour before curfew, so we went into town and Erica's dance studio has that one window that doesn't lock. We went in and sat on the new giant crash mat she got. I swear we both closed our eyes for maybe a minute and woke up to Erica shaking us and it was daylight."

"That doesn't explain your face. Did you roll over on one of her props in your sleep?" Stiles questions.

"No, that happened last night. The punch wasn't aimed at me if that's any consolation."

"There was a _punch_?" Stiles says, his own hands clenching into fists.

"Matt Daehler got a little... handsy with me at the dance. Isaac saw him and told him to back off. They shoved each other a little and that would've been the end of it but then Matt called me a Princess and Isaac punched him."

"That doesn't explain _your_ face."

"Isaac turned around to check on me and Matt went to hit him when his back was turned. I got in the way."

"Did you punch him?" Derek asks, ignores the outraged look Stiles throws him.

"Nah. I pushed him into the punch bowl though. We kinda had to get out of there after that. I think maybe Nana will get a bill for the damages."

"I would pay good money to see her opening that particular school letter," Stiles muses, then fixes Chester with a hard glare. "You are grounded, buster."

"What? I told you, it was an _accident_."

"There comes a time in every young parent's life when they must ground their kid, especially if their kid stays out all night. It might remind you to set an alarm next time you break into a dance studio and get cosy on a crash mat."

"Ugh," Chester grunts, stands and tromps to his room, throwing an annoyed glance over his shoulder.

When he's gone, Stiles and Derek just look at each other and then break out into shaky, somewhat hysterical giggles. "Holy crap. Never again," Stiles says. "Do you think anyone would notice if I bricked him into his room?"

"You'd have to leave a gap to push food and books through," Derek says, wiping at his face.

"Do you think they maybe...?" Stiles waggles his hands.

"Maybe." Derek says. "We should probably save that conversation for when it will be a little less fraught?"

Chester leans out of his room. "I noticed there were no panicked phone calls from you when I was past curfew," he calls.

"We fell asleep!" Stiles yells back.

"Ha! See? It happens. You close your eyes and boom! Daylight through no fault of your own."

"You're still grounded."

"Daaaaaad!"

*

"I was asked the other day if I was from a big family," Stiles says.

They're sitting on a picnic blanket in the front yard of Stiles' place. It's technically still a little cold for it but it's the first warmish day since the end of winter. They're watching Chester, Isaac and Stiles' dad throw a football around, Lydia and Erica heckling their ball-handling skills loudly from the front porch. Boyd is taking a turn _manning the grill_ while Allison tries to stop Scott from filling up on bread because no one wants to hear him complain about it afterwards.

"I mean, I'm so used to telling people that I'm not, that it's just me and my kid," Stiles continues. He has a hand on Derek's knee, playing with the frayed edges of a hole, twisting a long, loose thread around his thumb. He looks up from a moment before he squints around in the dying light of the day. "But that's not true anymore."

Derek captures Stiles' fidgeting fingers, presses them to his mouth. 

"It was never true."

**Author's Note:**

> I am now [on tumblr](http://kellifer-k.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title comes from a canon GG conversation between band mates Zach and Brian.


End file.
